Wayward Bound
by Fluid Consciousness
Summary: Prequel to Stray. What happened to Elissa before she found herself at the Pearl? A short story filled with violence, romance, and of course Anders...though there are some hints of another suitor. ;D
1. Eye Of The Beast

**Disclaimer: **I don't own DA:O or any of its characters.

**A/N: **This is a minific that acts as a prequel to _Stray. _Hopefully it will offer some insight into her personality and her past relationships. It won't be a long story, I foresee it being at most ten chapters. I have decided to change it from first person POV to third person, just because that's how I roll. ;D

* * *

**Eye Of The Beast**

_The beast glowers at me with its yellow, lunatic eyes. It's out for the blood of humans. Flurries of arrows cascade upon its scales. Some manage to penetrate, while most bounce off harmlessly. I cast a glance over to the violet eyed giant. His expression is grim but determined. He swings his two handed great sword over his head and sinks the tip into the dragon. It lets out a blood curdling scream; the shriek drowns out the anguished cries of the wounded men surrounding us. Black blood spills from its wound, and it lashes out with its hind claw, catching the bronze skinned giant in the side. He emits a faint grunt and falls to the ground, the crimson pools beneath his twisted form._

"_Help him!" I scream to the grey haired woman. When she bites her lip and hesitates, it's all I can do to keep from running her through for her insolence. "I said to sodding __**help him**__!" She nods and the faint glow glimmers on the palms of her hands. The wounded giant reacts to the healing magic almost immediately._

"_It's time," I whisper under my breath. I turn toward the dragon, sword in hand. I race forward, blade held high, a war cry tearing from my lungs. I hear the shouts of my comrades, begging me to wait. I ignore them. My blonde hair whips around my face as I engage the monster head on. Just as I plunge my sword into the throat of the beast, I can feel another presence watching. One that I've come to recognise over the course of my life. As the demon's blood pours over me, I glance up at the sky and smile._

"_I love you, sister."_

_My soul explodes into a million pieces. _

* * *

"Aedan!" she bolted upright, a cold sheen of sweat matting her night gown to her body. With a shaking hand she tossed the covers aside and swung her legs over the side of her bed. She could hear shouts from outside her chamber doors. It sounded like a celebration. She pulled a robe over top of her night gown and padded barefoot over to her door. She peeked out and saw several dwarves race by. She managed to grab hold of one, stopping him in place.

"Excuse me," she said. "What's going on?"

The dwarf looked up at her, his eyes wide with wonder. "Why, it's the end of the Blight, milady! The archdemon is dead!"

Her hand flew to her throat, a sharp intake of breath. "Did you say dead?"

"Yessum," the dwarf replied. "Felled by the Hero of Ferelden! He gave his life to save us!" He wrenched free of her grasp and darted off.

Her jaw clenched. The unreal sensation was settling upon her once again. She shut the door to her chambers and wandered back to her bed. A slight tingling washed over her skin. Her blood ran cold through her veins. She probed that special part of her brain; the part that connected her to him.

She felt nothing.

That was when she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what the dwarf had said was true. The archdemon had been slain.

And her brother was dead.

* * *

"My lady Elissa, I understand your pain, I lost a brother myself. But you can't just venture out onto the surface by yourself. It's simply not safe. The Blight may be over, but there are many…undesirables who would seek to cause you harm. Not because of your status, but because you're a woman, and they'll see you as weak. I think it best if you wait until the dust settles. You are always welcome in Orzammar." King Bhelen folded his arms over his chest as he regarded the young woman standing before him. Truth be told he'd always found Elissa Cousland quite attractive. He'd often hoped that she'd seek him out during her stay at the palace for more…carnal reasons. Her long, chestnut coloured hair and creamy jade eyes captivated him. His reaction to her sensuous curves was always immediate and intense. He knew that many would look down upon a union between dwarf and human, but with his rule times had been changing. Besides, if the other deshyrs didn't like it, they could sod off. Unfortunately, Elissa was dashing any hopes he had of taking her to his bed.

"I understand perfectly well just how dangerous it is up there," Elissa said. "But my decision is final. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I need to be with my family now. I've already packed what little I have. I will be leaving on the morrow."

Bhelen sighed. "Then I suppose there's nothing else to say. I will have a wagon prepared to take you to the human city of Denerim first thing in the morning. It will be waiting just outside Orzammar's entrance."

Elissa shook her head. "Thank you for the gesture, your Majesty, but I'd prefer to travel by foot. I won't be heading straight for the city, for I know I'll never make it in time for Aedan's funeral, with or without the aid of a carriage. No, I'd prefer to travel the lands. Gain some perspective." Her shoulders sagged. "I just need some time alone, to be honest."

Bhelen nodded his understanding. "Very well. Please, take your pick of the supplies our merchants have to offer. I will inform them that anything you desire will be free of charge."

"That is most kind, your Majesty," Elissa smiled while inclining her head. "I will never forget the hospitality you showed me during my time of grief."

Bhelen waved his hand dismissively. "I could not turn away such a lovely woman who'd just lost her entire family to a treacherous bastard." He ran his fingers through his beard. "I had no idea that human politics were so similar to dwarven politics."

"I daresay that there's a lot about human society that would surprise you," Elissa muttered bitterly. "At any rate, I'll be taking my leave. There's something I need to do before I leave. Again, I am forever indebted to you, King Bhelen." She bowed before him.

"Think nothing of it, my dear. Until we meet again." He smiled at her warmly and watched as she exited the throne room.

* * *

"You sure you want to do this? Fancy topsider like you shouldn't be marking her pretty face," Nadezda frowned as she plaited Elissa's hair. "And why would you want to ruin your hair like this? It was fine just the way it was."

Elissa shrugged a shoulder. "I plan on travelling for a while. I don't want to have to worry about primping and preening. Having it in tight braids allows for easy maintenance."

"Do you want corn rows like most of the other dusters?" Nadezda asked.

Elissa shuddered. "No, just plain braids all over, not stuck to the scalp, thanks. I'll pull them into a ponytail when you're done," she cracked her knuckles as the dwarven woman worked her magic on her hair. "So you know who I can see for the tattoo?"

Nadezda nodded. "Sure do, salroka. One of Rogek's men will do it for you for two gold. That sound fair?"

Elissa snorted derisively. "Hardly, but I have little choice." She let loose a sigh, "alright, I'll do it."

"Wonderful, you can find him in Alimar's. We're all done here, salroka." Nadezda gathered Elissa's braids into a tight leather thong. "I suggest you cover the tattoo until you leave Orzammar. I don't think many of the fancy nobles'll take too kindly to you sportin' the mark."

"Thanks, Nadezda…For everything," Elissa smiled and handed the dwarven woman three sovereigns.

"Think nothing of it," the woman replied. "And human?" Elissa glanced over her shoulder. "_Atrasta nal tunsha."_

Elissa smiled widely. "And you as well, friend."

* * *

"Stop squirmin', human! I'm almost finished. By the Stone, I can't understand how you can take down a dozen darkspawn and then bawl at having a few needles prick your skin," the tattoo artist grumbled. "Alright, you're done. Have a look."

The dwarf handed Elissa a mirror. She took it and held it up to her face. She was virtually unrecognizable. Not that many would expect her to be alive anyway. Her hair, once soft and luxurious, was braided and pulled back. Several plaits hung loosely around her face, the rest having been secured by the length of leather Nadezda had given her. Her eyes, once vibrant and full of life, seemed dulled by the loss she'd endured in so short a time. Her eyes wandered to her right cheek. There it was, staring back at her: the mark of the casteless. Elissa laughed mirthfully, tears threatened to spill. "Perfect," she whispered. "Absolutely perfect."

* * *

She brought very little with her; her pack was mostly filled with food stuffs. She had a couple of changes of clothes, but figured she'd be wearing her Chasind robes for the most part. They allowed for easy movement, and she knew she'd more than likely face bandits on her travels. The king of Orzammar had left her with a parting gift, one which Elissa couldn't help but be grateful for: a beautiful Palomino. The steed was waiting for her at the mountain pass, flanked by two of the royal guards.

"We've been ordered to give this to you before you leave, Lady Elissa," said one of the guards.

Elissa nodded, her hand gliding down the horse's neck. "Thank the king for me, gentlemen. It is a most generous gift." She patted its flanks before hooking a foot into one of the stirrups. She wasn't surprised to notice that the rest of her belongings hung at the horse's saddle in small leather sacks. Bhelen certainly knew how to take care of his friends.

"What are you going to name him?" one of the guards asked.

Elissa tilted her head to one side, a silly grin curling up at the corners of her lips. "Frederick."

With one last parting glance over her shoulder, Elissa clucked at the horse, willing it into a trot. It was time for her to move on.

* * *

Her first few days of travel were rather uneventful. She camped in secluded areas, but not without setting several traps around her campsite. She wasn't stupid after all, and Fergus had taught her several nasty tricks should she be alone in the woods. She wondered idly if this was what he had in mind when he'd taught her those tricks. What she didn't know, however, was that someone was watching her, and waiting to pounce.

It was on the third night that she'd set up camp when she heard the familiar clattering of a trap being set off.

"Sod it all!" cried out a gruff voice.

Elissa had been in her tent, snuggled up in a cotton nightshift in her bedroll. She reached for the two daggers beneath her pillows and slowly crawled out from under her sheets. Her ears strained to pick up whatever sounds she could. So far she'd only heard one intruder, but soon another man spoke.

"Serves you right for walking straight into a trap, you daft git," another man hissed.

_Alright, two against one…not the best odds, but I think I can handle it._

"Will you two _shut up_? She's liable to hear you!" came a third voice.

_Shyte._

"Right boss," said the man who'd sprung the trap. "I'll grab the horse. You two are gonna deal with the girl, aye?"

Elissa felt the familiar irrational anger bubble up inside her, and before she knew it, she'd flown out of her tent, daggers in hand. "You will _not_ take my horse!" she bellowed. The three men turned to stare at her. The leader began to laugh. He was _laughing_ at her! Her ire increased tenfold.

"And just what are you going to do about it, missy?" he mocked, holding a great sword out in front of him. _Damn, but that's a big sword, _Elissa thought wearily.

The three men circled her, and Elissa twirled her daggers, waiting for one of them to make the first move. Soon the first man she'd heard lunged forward, swinging his sword down in an awkward arc. Elissa dodged the attack easily, but as she backed away, she felt the dagger of the second man plunge into her side. She hissed through her teeth and stumbled backward. She was hurt, but still able to fight. With lightning quick reflexes she lashed out with her daggers, catching the first man in the throat. Blood spurted from his carotid artery. One down, two to go. The man who'd stabbed her circled her wearily, his dagger and long sword held out before him in a defensive stance. Elissa was about to launch herself forward when she felt a crack against her skull. The leader had smashed the pummel of his blade against the side of her head. Her vision became blurred, and she felt the warm trickle of blood slowly cascading down her forehead and into her eyes. She soon realized she was fighting a losing battle. Not only was she suffering from a concussion, but she was certain that the dagger that had penetrated her flesh had been coated with poison. She could feel a burning sensation seeping through her veins. As the leader once again brought his sword down, Elissa leapt out of the way, and instead the man's blade hacked into his comrade's neck. She saw the shock register on his face. She dashed toward him, now in a blood and poison induced frenzy. It was kill or be killed. She brandished her daggers as the leader attempted to dislodge his weapon from the man's neck. Too late, he felt her heel smash into his knee, bending it at an obscene angle. He fell to the ground. Elissa's eyes were wild, her pupils dilated from the poison now coursing through her. Without a moment's hesitation she plunged her dagger straight into the man's heart. He let loose one last death rattle before falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Elissa stumbled away from the gore. She clutched at the wound in her side. Her hair was slick with the blood of her enemies, her nightshift drenched in her own. She heard a twig snap behind her. She whipped around, daggers at the ready. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a feral growl. She would go down fighting, damn it! She barely saw him move, only saw a flash of blonde and heard him utter a single word.

"_Sleep_..."


	2. Healing Hands

**Disclaimer: **Dragon Age - I don't own any of it. D:

**A/N: **Thank you to all those who commented, favourited, and alerted. I love you all! *Kisses*

And for all of my _Stray _readers...I **swear** I'll update...if it's not up by the end of the weekend, I give you all full rights to tar and feather me.

* * *

**Healing Hands**

He watched her stir in her slumber for some time. Her wounds had been grave, and it had taken a lot out of him to heal her. The hoodlums that had attacked her had used a particularly deadly poison, and if he hadn't been there to intervene right away, she would have most certainly perished. He knelt beside her, placing a cool cloth on her brow. Her limbs jerked from time to time, and he knew she was in the clutches of a fever dream. Occasionally she would murmur nonsense, sputter out names that he didn't recognize. He'd managed to draw most of the poison out of her, but he could still sense non-fatal remnants coursing through her veins. All he could do was wait and perform the occasional healing spell.

He wandered over to the campfire that he'd maintained and stirred the broth that he had prepared. He added some elfroot pulp and catswort, the latter to promote sweating the poison from her system. Once completed, he spooned the broth into a bowl and carried it over to the young woman. He placed a hand behind her neck and gingerly lifted her head, bringing the bowl to her lips. Much to his satisfaction, she sipped at the broth. Soon the bowl was empty, and he left her to sleep off the fever.

He poked at the campfire with a stick, and was busily preparing his own stew when he heard the girl stir and mumble something coherent.

"Who're you?" she slurred. She had propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes glassy with fatigue and sickness.

"Nobody of importance," he replied. "I'm just here to nurse you back to health."

The girl chuckled huskily. It caused a shiver to run down the man's spine. "You're nursing me back to health? That makes you pretty important in my books," she quipped hazily.

One corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk. "I suppose that's true. Very well, you, my dear lady, may call me Anders."

"Anders," she repeated languidly. "Aaaanderssss…it's fun to say. Do you have a last name, Anders?"

"Sadly, no. Just Anders," he replied, his smile widening.

The girl slumped onto her back, obviously having lost what little strength she had. "I suppose I should thank you, Just-Anders."

Anders sauntered over to her, placing a wrist on her forehead to gauge her temperature. "Your fever is going down. Soon I'll be able to use magic to heal you." He awaited the usual horrified screech that typically accompanied such a confession. The girl simply smiled, though her eyes had fallen shut from exhaustion.

"A mage, are you? I should count myself extremely lucky, then," her voice had become thick with sleep. "I promise that I'll find some way of repaying you, ser mage."

As he brushed several braided strands of hair from her forehead, Anders could think of several ways this lovely specimen could show him her gratitude. He pushed those thoughts aside, however, and simply chuckled. "All I ask is that you tell me your name."

"Elissa," the girl murmured sleepily.

The next morning, Anders awoke to find Elissa staring at him pensively.

"Why aren't you in the Tower?" she asked.

He shifted uncomfortably in his bedroll. "I—am on important business. You see, one of the nobles has fallen very ill, and he needs a mage to cure him."

Elissa pushed herself up to a seated position. Her cheeks were still rosy, likely the last remnants from her fever, but her eyes were clear. She was no longer in any danger. "Where does this noble reside that you are set to cure?"

Anders mentally calculated their current location in relation to the nearest populated area. "A place to the north…Highever I believe it's called."

Elissa's eyes darkened. "Highever, is it? And what is the name of the noble you're meant to be helping?"

"I—erm, can't seem to recall…"

"Well then, allow me. Highever is the teyrnir that has been held by the Couslands for…well, let's say a very long time. Only recently, an asp of a man named Howe overthrew the Couslands for his own selfish ambitions. He slaughtered the entire family, save for three. Fergus Cousland, who later perished over the grief of losing his family, Aedan Cousland, who you may know as the Hero of Ferelden, and his twin sister. As far as I know, Highever has no Teyrn, so I'm at a loss as to who it is you're supposed to be healing." Elissa's eyes narrowed accusingly.

Anders' shoulders slumped. "Oh. Truthfully? I'm an apostate. I escaped the Tower a few weeks ago."

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" Elissa raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure that would go over well, I tell you that I'm an illegal mage, you get flustered and start screaming bloody murder, and lo and behold, I'm captured by those dastardly templars again." Anders pulled his knees up under his chin.

"You must think me very callous if you think I'd turn you over to the Chantry after you just saved my life," Elissa said softly. "Frankly, I don't understand _why _they keep you locked up in that Tower. You've committed no crime, at least none that I'm aware of. Why punish someone for being born with a gift?" she sighed. "Sorry, there I go again, off on a political tangent."

Anders listened to her speech, mouth slightly agape. "You're the first person I've met that's had that opinion."

"My father was always been a magic sympathizer, as was my mother. I suppose their ideals were simply passed down to me," she explained.

"You speak of them in the past tense…are they…?"

Elissa nodded. "That whole speech I gave about Highever? It was my family that fell victim to such treachery. I am the last remaining Cousland."

Anders scratched the back of his neck, his brow furrowed. "Then shouldn't you be…ruling your teyrnir or whatever you call it? Like a proper noblewoman?"

"Maker's breath, no!" Elissa said with some disdain. "I want nothing to do with politics. Ultimately, I'm traveling to Denerim. I had just planned on having a bit of an adventure on the way, see the lands…explore…I just came from Orzammar, and before that I was studying in Orlais, so it's safe to say that I miss Ferelden very much. I want to enjoy it for as long as possible." Her eyes had grown wistful, and Anders couldn't help but gaze upon her with longing. She was unlike any woman he'd ever met. The mages in the Tower hardly had minds of their own, and those that he'd met during his escape attempts always bore a small amount of fear toward him despite wanting to bed him. This woman…this Elissa Cousland…was refreshing, to say the least.

"Well then, my lady, I will be happy to escort you during your travels," he cast a devilish smile her way.

Elissa's gaze snapped over to him. "What? No! I have no need for company on this trip. I wish to be left alone. Look, I appreciate everything you did for me, and I'll gladly compensate you, but I do _not_ want you following me about."

Anders decided it was time for him to turn on the charm. He cocked an eyebrow and crawled over to her side of the campsite with catlike grace. "And just what sort of compensation are you proposing?"

She turned her gaze back to the fire. "If you come any closer, I shall relieve you of your manhood."

He chuckled. "I expected that…but let's be honest, dear lady. You can't exactly _stop _me from following you around."

Elissa jerked and gave him an incredulous look. "You can't be serious! You aren't honestly going to follow me about like a puppy, are you?"

Anders shrugged a shoulder. "And why not? I think you'll even come to enjoy my company." He grinned at her lasciviously. "Besides, I may even grow on you."

Elissa rolled her eyes. "What, like an exceptionally bad rash?"

His grin widened. "Something like that."

He watched with some amusement as her jaw clenched out of irritation. He just couldn't help himself, she was so cute when she was angry.


End file.
